Through the Looking Glass
by Lucian Valerious
Summary: Companion piece to Harry Potter: the Second Chance. One-shots and drabbles that would otherwise fill the story too much. Rated M for writing freedom
1. Chapter 1

**As Promised, the side collection of one-shots and drabbles and side stories that would divert attention too much from the main story. Enjoy**

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Through the Looking Glass Chapter 1: the Slytherin Table.

(Characters featured prominently: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Regulus Black, Cyrus Greengrass, Roxanne Sterling, Stephen Davis, Sirius Black, James Potter, Horace Slughorn)

(1 day after Gryffindor/Slytherin Quidditch match)

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"... and that's not at all odd," Sirius argued with James, as the two, Harry, and Luna walked down the steps for lunch. The others were already downstairs in the Great Hall, waiting for them.

"Of course it's odd, you dolt," James chastised Sirius. "But that doesn't mean that it can't be done."

"Can't what be done?" Harry asked. He'd zoned out for most of the conversation, having been forced to witness another memory of Riddle last night and needing to process it for his Occlumency. They came daily at various times, ever since the Horcrux had been removed. But since the Chamber and Horcrux memories, most of them had been useless to Harry. A brief show of Riddle eating and being polite to his fellow housemates. Him studying in the library alongside a young Madam Pince. Him writing something in Charms class. One of Riddle doing things with an Imperiused girl in a broom cupboard that had made him turn red in disgust. Daily things that Harry might as well forget. They only served as painful reminders of how similar they still were, despite their huge differences.

"Can't a Gryffindor sit at the Slytherin house table for once," James answered, drawing Harry's thoughts back to the present. "It would be the perfect cover for placing a prank, so we wouldn't have to hurry at midnight and hide from the ghosts or patrolling teachers."

"And I keep telling you, it cannot be done," Sirius argued back. "It's impossible to do something like that then. We'd be under too much scrutiny from the other students. Besides, with the current climate its suicide for a Gryffindor to sit at the Slytherin table."

Harry wasn't so sure. He was on polite, if not outright friendly, terms with Severus Snape, and he'd gained the respect of most of their Quidditch Team as well with the surfing stunt at yesterday's match. He supposed that ought to buy him at least some minimal protection from their housemates.

"I'll take that bet," Harry said before he could stop the words from leaving his mouth. James and Sirius both turned to him in surprise.

"What?" Sirius asked in shock.

Harry mentally hit himself on the head. He wanted a quiet year at Hogwarts, one without trouble or extra attention. He shouldn't draw it to himself by undertaking a suicide mission and sitting at the Slytherin table. But still, the chance to cross the gap between houses and close it a little...

"Twenty galleons say I can survive lunch at the Slytherin table," Harry said, daring both of them to say otherwise. Both of the Marauders in front of him looked shocked at his daring, with James adding a touch of worry about his son/brother sitting at the one table he might find himself getting hurt.

Sirius smirked before he could voice that concern, though. "Deal. Ten minutes at that table, twenty galleons."

Harry nodded and held out his hand. Over James' worried look, they both shook it. "Deal," Harry agreed. Then, without preamble, he entered the Great Hall. He stopped briefly, looking the table over. It didn't take long for him to find Severus: the boy, like him, had very characteristic hair, and Harry soon found him sitting with nearly half the Quidditch team, most of whom were in his year. Before Sirius could try to get him to forfeit, Harry strode over and spotted a free spot between Severus and Stephen Davis, the Slytherin Beater. The two looked up in shock as Harry sat down, as did the three Slytherins sitting across from him.

"You got a death wish, Potter?" Cyrus Greengrass, sitting diagonally across from him opposite of Davis, asked him.

"What?" Harry asked as he filled the plate with food, careful to be as cautious and neat as possible as to not appear like the average Gryffindor. "Is it forbidden for a Gryffindor Student to sit at the Slytherin table?"

"No," Regulus Black answered, sitting across from Severus. "But it hasn't happened in how long? Twenty-three years? Twenty four?"

"Twenty-eight and change," Roxanne Sterling answered, sitting directly across from Harry. "I looked it up once. The last ones to do so were some of the younger siblings of the original Rascals. Headmaster Dippet almost fainted at the sight of the mixed group." She narrowed her eyes. "Sirius Black set you up to this didn't he?"

Harry shook his head. "More like I set him up."

"Explain," Regulus ordered, though he was clearly fighting a grin.

"I made a business proposal," Harry said. True, he could just simply say he made a bet. But he didn't want to make an unintentional faux pas here, and being as formal as possible seemed like the safest route. "He has promised to pay me twenty galleons if I managed to sit at least ten minutes at the Slytherin table without making a faux pas."

Regulus grinned. "Well, since I dislike my dear brother so much, I'll help you win this bet. For twenty percent of the winnings, of course."

"Me too," Cyrus said with a grin. "We've been itching to knock him down a few pegs, and this seems the most inconspicuous way to do it. Once again, I ask for twenty percent of the winnings though."

"Same here," Stephen said, and Roxanne nodded, while also holding her hands and fingers up two times to indicate she also wanted twenty percent.

"Twenty percent, and we'll ensure that Mulciber, Wilkes, and Avery behave themselves," Severus said, nodding towards a trio of fifth year Slytherins who were glaring at Harry.

Harry frowned. "If the five of you each want twenty percent, that leaves me with... Nothing," he deadpanned.

"What do you know?!" Stephen said in mock-shock. "A Gryffindor who isn't a dunderhead."

Harry mock-scowled. "Ten percent each," he bargained, a bit unsettled by the glares he received from the older students of the table.

Regulus smirked. "Eighteen."

Harry sighed. "Eleven."

"Seventeen and a half."

"Thirteen. Final offer."

Regulus scowled. "Fifteen. And you teach me that trick of standing on your broom you did yesterday."

Harry faked contemplating it for a moment. For all intents and purposes that seemed fair, even if it only left him with five galleons in the end. But it was better than nothing, and if nothing else he had some entertaining conversational partners for the day.

And he couldn't agree immediately, or he might still be seen as a rash and reckless Gryffindor who didn't think things through. "Agreed. Fifteen percent each, and I'll hand you my winnings the next lunch."

The Slytherins looked amongst themselves for a moment, and Cyrus and Roxanne whispered conspiratorially, before they all nodded, and each of them shook his hand in turn. "Deal," Regulus agreed.

Harry nodded, and let out a sigh of relief. The three might come up and bother them, but he thought he could now count on the five around him to defend him verbally, or at least ensure it didn't become a fight while still in the Great Hall.

"Good. Now, since it would become uncomfortable if we are in silence, anyone have something to talk about?" Stephen asked.

"What about introductions?" Regulus proposed. "Aside from the DA, classes, and Quidditch, Harry knows as little about us as we know about him."

Harry nodded. "Very well. Since I'm the guest around here, it feels polite to introduce myself to the hosts first. My name's Harrison Fleamont Potter, though I myself prefer Harry. I'm the twin of the school's resident prankster James Charlus Potter." Severus scowled when this fact was repeated. "And I trained mostly with various tutors across Europe, rarely staying in one place for more than a month. Neville Longbottom travelled with me, because both of us had reportedly very high power levels. On our way, we met Ronald and Ginevra Beckett, Hermione Bay, and Luna Swann, whom we befriended and who decided to travel with us to learn magic. About five months ago, my father Owled us to get us back in England, citing the unrest with You-Know-Who made travelling as... unprotected as we did unsafe. Our four friends decided to come with us as they wanted to learn at Hogwarts as well, and... Well, here we are."

Cyrus nodded. "Most of that we'd been able to piece together ourselves, but thank you for confirming it, Potter."

"How powerful were you magically?" Regulus asked, his eyes narrowed in intrigue.

Harry shrugged and was about to answer, when he saw Severus shake his head subtly from the corner of his eye. And Harry realised the beginner's mistake he'd almost made: never reveal too much in your first conversation.

Harry smirked. "Now now, Mister Black, one shouldn't waste their best weapon at the introduction. Save some of that for later."

He let out an internal sigh of relief when all five Slytherins around him smiled. "Well spotted, Potter," Cyrus complimented. "I'll go next, as the eldest of the group. Name's Cyrus Greengrass. Mother's called Agatha Greengrass, nee Sloane. Father, as you undoubtedly found out this summer, Hyperion Greengrass, a prominent member of the Great Alliance. Got a twin brother, Thomas, who was so smart he did his OWLs in second year at the Ministry, and NEWTs in his third, before leaving Hogwarts and starting at Gringotts as the youngest recorded Curse-Breaker apprentice in Europe. He's in Peru now, investigating the Nazca lines with the local Gringotts branch to see if the Runes Magicals can see there might lead to more tombs. Roxanne here's my girlfriend, soulmate, and beloved."

"Soulmate?" Harry asked, remembering something about soul bonds from his Gringotts test.

"Figuratively," Stephen dismissed. "They're the classic example of childhood sweethearts. Growing up in manors with properties bordering to the other, the Sterlings happened to move in shortly after Roxie and Cyrus were born, the two were inseparable since. Professed their undying love for one another-" there was a loud thud under the table, and Harry had the impression from Cyrus' glare that the latter had just tried to kick Stephen. But the former continued on anyway, smiling unabashedly. "-in fourth year, and I've caught them in broom cupboards once or twice since." Thud. "They might actually make such a bond once they graduate-" thud, "-but as far as I know they haven't gone through with it yet."

"Thank you, Stephen, for spoiling our life for us," Roxanne said sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Davis smirked anyway. "Now, my turn. Stephen Davis, one of the few in this house proud enough to admit they're halfblood. Mum's a pureblood witch, father son of a muggle woman. Ghastly woman, my grandmother. Not the muggle, part though. The radio's fantastic, and they've got much better fashion. No, it's her cooking. She thinks her meat loaf is delicious, but it's always burned half the time we-"

Cyrus cleared his throat, and Davis blushed a bit at being caught rambling. "Anyway, compared to the others my life's pretty boring, actually. Like Roxie said, my father's one of the eight founders of the Great Alliance, but he dislikes the attention so he does more of the background stuff like funding and supplying for the others back when they still fought in the war. Because of the close friendship between our fathers, Cyrus and I grew up together as well, and we're practically best buddies. Well, as close as you can get in Slytherin, anyway."

Harry listened on intently as Davis talked, as did the others. He never knew the Slytherins could be this social as well. Due to what Hagrid and later Ron had said, he'd always assumed the Slytherins were evil gits out to get him (though admittedly the Slytherins of his time had done little to dissuade him from that image, especially Malfoy and his goons), but here they seemed outright nice. Even if he was still mostly ignored or treated as an outsider.

"But there was a big fight between Cyrus and his father, back in fourth year," Davis continued talking, and Harry belatedly realised he'd zoned out for a moment. "Old 'Perion never really recovered from the war with Grindelwald. Was always startled or wary when seeing his children, and I saw him smile two, maybe three times when I was there, And I've been coming there since I was four. The screaming at night as he woke up from another nightmare, screaming about the older brother of Cyrus he lost during the war, wee baby lad named Castor or something. Cyrus couldn't take it, of course, little Prince Charming needing a bit more special attention that he couldn't get. But there was a fight about it, a big one which escalated into a physical brawl Baron Black had to Floo over for to stop it, and next thing I know he's spending summer at Roxie's and Thom's hitting the Portkey to Peru."

Harry looked over at Cyrus, and saw he was on the edge of tears. Clearly, whatever had caused them to fight was still a sensitive subject. Harry respectfully diverted attention to Roxanne Sterling instead. "And what about you?"

Roxanne nodded gratefully, before clearing her throat. "Heiress Roxanne Sterling. Scottish-born first-generation witch that can trace her blood back to the old muggle nobles from the founders' times. My muggle parents got enough monetary clout in both muggle and magical worlds to keep most Purebloods from interfering with our family, and our Manor is warded by Gringotts Cursebreakers, and Seraphina Bones and Cassiopeia Black herself to keep out the remainder. As Stephen so rudely pointed out," said Slytherin merely looked away and whistled innocently, "I grew up with the Davis and Greengrass families as neighbours, with Agatha, Cyrus' mother, teaching my family about the magical world so they can blend in well. Like Stephen, my life's not that remarkable otherwise. Mostly I stuck with Cyrus and Stephen, as their influence as children of the Great Alliance stopped most retaliation for being one of few Muggleborn Slytherins."

Harry nodded. "I see. Any other Muggleborns in your house, or have they all since graduated?"

"One other," Roxanne confirmed, after both took a glance at Cyrus, who had since calmed down enough that he managed a mask of practiced indifference. "Aurora Sinistra. A second year," Roxanne pointed, and Harry indeed saw his future Astronomy teacher sitting a bit further down the table.

"As fascinating as Muggleborns are," Severus said, his word carefully phrased after receiving a glare from Cyrus and Roxanne. "I believe we should get on with the introductions."

Regulus nodded in agreement. "Quite so. Severus, you're the older one, so you go first."

Severus grumbled but relented. "Fine. Name's Severus Snape. Son of Eileen Prince and Tobias Snape." Harry raised an eyebrow in interest when Severus practically spat out that name. He recognised it because it was the same vehemence with which Harry would say Vernon's name. "I live in Cokeworth, at Spinner's End, to be precise. I'm a prodigy at Potions, as was my mother, and I have a vendetta with your brother, James Potter."

"Prince," Harry said in interest. As much as he wanted to find out why Severus seemed to hate his father so much, he knew this wasn't a subject to be discussed in the Great Hall, where all could overhear. "Happen to be a relation to Alice Prince, the seventh year in my house?"

"A distant cousin," Severus admitted. "Don't know how closely were really related. Never cared enough to find out."

"They share a great grandmother, or great great grandmother with the same surname," Regulus added for clarification.

"You're a halfblood, aren't you?" Stephen whispered softly in realisation. "Can't recall a pureblood house going by the name Snape."

Severus gritted his teeth visibly, letting out a soft growl as he did that strongly reminded Harry of Moony, and Stephen visibly paled and backed down, recognising he was close to crossing a line. Severus let out a few breaths to calm down, and then resumed.

"I'm planning on getting a Potions Mastery once I graduate. I enjoy the subject immensely, and wouldn't mind spending the rest of my life creating new potions, or rediscovering ancient ones."

"That'll be the sight," Regulus smirked, before waving his arms as if to announce a great headline for the Daily Prophet. "Severus Snape, Greatest Potioneer of our age. Died behind the cauldron singing to the Beatles."

Harry turned to Snape in surprise as the Slytherin rubbed his brow in frustration. Regulus, Stephen, and Roxanne were snickering their asses off, while Cyrus looked a bit confused.

"One time," Severus mumbled. "I listen to Lily's music enthusiastically one time, and it haunts me for the rest of my life."

"Yep," Regulus laughed, popping the P. "Face it: you're doomed."

"Oh, like you're so good," Cyrus defended his year mate with a smirk of his own. "Regulus Arcturus Black, Scourge of house Slytherin and the Quidditch pitch, his family a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, one of eight leading families of the Great Alliance... Has to ask for help to open a bloody Chocolate Frog card."

"OI!" Regulus yelled, drawing the attention of other nearby Slytherins. "You swore never to reveal that!"

Harry and the others laughed, the banter releasing a lot of the tension from the earlier subjects of the conversation. Harry realised that if this was how the Slytherins really were like, instead of the bad image Ron and the Marauders gave Harry, he wouldn't have minded being in Slytherin at all. True, there were the constant death threats for being a Potter to consider here, and the eternal nuisance of Malfoy in his own time. But those were obstacles that could be overcome.

"What about you, Regulus?" Harry asked. "What's your story?"

Regulus stopped smiling and swallowed. "Name's Regulus Arcturus Black, as you no doubt already know. The only fourth year of this bunch. Have an older brother who's been an absolute git since he joined Gryffindor, a mother who even the Dark Lord wouldn't consider turning into an Inferius she's so horrible, and a father one can trample over like mud. Grandfather's a menace, though. Don't get on the wrong end of his wand, or it's the last thing you'll ever do. If his friends in the Great Alliance don't find you first, that is." Regulus paused, looking down before letting out a final, world-weary sigh. "My mother wants me to join the Death Eaters in Seventh year," he finished in a whisper.

Harry briefly leaned back in shock. Sirius had told him that Regulus seemed to regret joining the Death Eaters before he'd died, but this bit implies he never wants to in the first place, especially with how soft his voice came across to them.

"Really?" Severus asks, sounding quite surprised.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "Either that, or get kicked out of the family like Sirius was. Mum's a really big supporter of his cause. Would donate all our property and gold to him if Grandfather didn't hold her at wand point for already trying that with Grimmauld Place without his permission. Made her vow not to do that again as long as he lived."

Harry nodded along, seeing the obvious loophole Walburga Black had to hope for. And judging by the looks of the others, so did they. Still, Regulus seemed particularly happy about the last announcement, so Harry decided to ask.

"And what about you? Do you want to join him?"

The other five Slytherins all looked at him, and each other, nervously. Harry mentally rolled his eyes at their paranoia (though he had to admit with the fact they were going to be hexed if anyone overheard they were right to be cautious) and cast another privacy charm. "It's all right," Harry said. "No one can hear us now."

Regulus nodded in thanks. "No. I don't want to. I used to, would've considered it one of my best achievements to get his mark, but..." He sighed, and rubbed a bit at his eyes. "My cousins, Cissy and Bella, they used to be part of his following. And they've been writing me, telling me all about how living under his rule was like." He looked at Roxanne, then at Stephen. "You guys would be hunted and slaughtered. The Dark Lord really doesn't tolerate people with muggle ancestors much. To be frank, you'd have to be a gruesome killer or the most loyal of followers if you ever hoped to survive in his ranks."

Roxanne nodded gravely, and Harry figured she'd found out as much already. Stephen, though, frowned.

"Really? From what Patroclus Bulstrode told me, halfbloods were welcome, too."

"From what Blake Avery and Gregory Mulciber told me, halfbloods have to be really good to be accepted," Severus said, matching Stephen's frown with one of his own. "Like experts in a certain field, or be really good at fighting."

Cyrus snarled. "That bastard won't see a Greengrass on his doorstep any time soon. I won't sacrifice my friendship with you two for that murdering asshole."

Harry rose his eyebrows in surprise. Didn't Charlus say once that Cyrus was about to join up with Voldemort, going his way because he was pushed away by his father's PTSD issues? Then where the hell was this coming from?

Fortunately Regulus shared his confusion, so Harry didn't have to ask. "My grandfather said he heard Hyperion say you were about to join up with him. Is that wrong then?"

Cyrus looked down in contemplation, frowning at his own situation. "I'm not sure," he admitted, clearly surprising a startled Roxanne and Stephen. "In the beginning, shortly after my fight with father, I wanted it for a while. Even volunteered some information when Avery and his ilk wanted to know something about Slughorn. But if I have to sacrifice my friendship and relationship with you two," he gestured at Stephen and Roxanne with this. "I don't know anymore."

Harry let out a sigh of relief. He felt glad he hadn't made a mistake when he asked Cyrus to join the DA. Sure, Ron and Sirius would still be biased against him for being Slytherins and for the fact his own father assumed he would join the Death Eaters, but the guy himself seemed to be alright.

Then Harry got an idea. And the more he considered it, the more he liked it. It would help break down the image around Voldemort, and possibly dissuade the more Pureblood-oriented in Slytherin from joining him. "Well, just to make sure, I'd like to tell you all something I found out on my journey." At the frown of most of the others, Harry gestured for them to get closer, and got out his quill, ink, and a small bit of parchment he usually had for passing notes to Sirius. He wrote down 'Tom Marvolo Riddle', and showed it to them all. Once they all nodded they'd seen it, Harry flicked his wand and moved the letters, until it spelled 'I am Lord Voldemort'.

Cyrus frowned. "So you found out the Dark Lord's real name. Impressive, but how does that help us? As far as I know, the Riddles aren't a well-known family."

Harry smirked. "They wouldn't be amongst Slytherins, since they're Muggles."

All of the five around Harry widened their eyes in shock. "He's muggleborn?" Roxanne asked, astonished.

"Technically a halfblood from the Gaunt family," Harry answered, remembering from one of the Horcrux-acquired memories that he still had a couple of relatives from that side of his family, Marvolo and Morfin Gaunt. "But yes, his father's a pureblood muggle."

The reactions of the five Slytherins were varied. Cyrus looked contemplative, likely wondering what the consequences of that revelation could be, while Roxanne's face was still stuck in shock as she looked down at her food. Severus looked mildly surprised now, and his eyes flicked from one side to the other as if switching between lines of thought. Regulus, meanwhile, was like a gaping fish, opening and closing his mouth without anything coming out. In the end, he only succeeded in mumbling, "My mum worships a halfblood?"

But Stephen's reaction was by far the most extreme. His face was frozen for exactly two seconds, before he broke down in hysteric laughter. It drew the attention of them and most of their table (and even the Ravenclaws directly behind them) when he slammed his hand down on the table he was guffawing so hard.

"Dark Lord... Muggle father..." he gasped between laughs, his other hand now clutching his gut. "Oooohohohoh... Priceless..."

"Just think," Roxanne said, recovered from her shock and eyeing Stephen with a wide grin when he seemed to finally calm down. "If he has muggle heritage... Do you think he used a pacifier when he was a baby?"

This set Stephen of freshly anew, so much he even rolled off the bench in laughter, and the humour of the notion of a baby Voldemort with a pacifier in his mouth set Severus and Regulus off as well. Harry grinned along with them. Most of the memories he had of Tom were all beyond the age of twelve so far, but the notion of a baby Tom Riddle... Even though he was disgusted by the man himself and what he'd done, he couldn't help but be amused.

"Stop it," Stephen gasped, trying to help himself back on the bench while still laughing his ass off. "I can't breathe."

"Or a diaper," Cyrus finally joined, and Stephen lost the climb onto the bench with the refreshing round of laughter they all shared this time. Even Severus and Roxanne, the ones he usually saw with the emotional cold masks in class and the DA, were grinning like madmen (or madwoman) at their shared joke.

"Harry," Stephen managed when he finally stopped, finally succeeding in climbing back onto the bench and sitting down at his lunch, though he and the others still had huge smiles on their faces. "Forget my share. That tidbit of information you just shared is worth far more. Thank you."

Harry was about to thank him, but felt a tug of magic over his shoulder. He looked over and saw a concerned Professor Slughorn standing there, a lowered wand in hand. Harry cancelled the privacy charms.

"Mister Davis, are you alright?" The professor asked. "You had me quite concerned there for a moment."

"Nothing's wrong, Sir," Stephen said. "Just heard a really really funny joke, that's all."

Slughorn looked quite skeptical at that, but he still nodded and let them be. "Very well, my boy. If you insist." He turned to leave and head for the staff table again, only to freeze mid-step, and turned back to look at Harry. "Oh, and Mister Potter? Twenty points to Gryffindor for bridging the gap between two antagonistic houses," he added jovially. "Very well done, Harry."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Professor," he said, taking a quick peek at the Gryffindor table, looking for his friends. The sight nearly set him off as badly as Stephen had just moments ago. Ron, Sirius, Peter, James, and Neville were staring at Harry like gaping fish, Ron even forgetting he had food on his fork hanging in mid-air, while Remus had just raised an eyebrow at him. The rest of their dorm mates simple talked on, not either not knowing or not caring that much about Harry sitting at the Slytherin table.

Most of the girls stared at him with wide eyes, not believing the sight (Ginny actually rubbed her eyes a bit in disbelief), Luna gave him the same smile she always did with most people, while Lily gave him an appreciative smile, likely for sitting with Severus. Amelia, on the other side of the hall at the Hufflepuff table, wore a smirk as a small pouch, likely filled with Galleons, was handed to her by her scowling brother.

Harry cast a quick Tempus, and upon seeing that Lunch was nearly over, he rose. "As fun as it was, lady and gentlemen, lunch is nearly over. I better go before my brother and your brother," he vaguely pointed at Regulus, "suffer heart attacks from what has just transpired today."

As Regulus smirked at the thought, Severus actually grabbed his cloak, and softly tried to pull him back down. "In that case, stay. You might make our day if that happens."

Harry chuckled, but still softly pulled his cloak free. It didn't need much force, as Severus hadn't put much strength in his grip at all. "Yeah, and it might ruin mine. Who do you think the Barons will look at if their heirs suddenly drop dead just when I'm sitting at this table?"

Severus sighed. "A fair point. Ah well, same time next week?"

Harry nodded. "Sure. I need to give you your shares anyway." He shook the hands of all of them. "Have a good day."

"Oh, we will," Stephen laughed. "Yes, we will."

Harry smirked, and nodded in farewell before walking back to the Gryffindor table. He managed to weasel a spot between Ron and Neville, and across from Sirius, all of whom were still staring at him with wide eyes and open mouths. Harry smirked, holding up his hand.

"Suicide for sitting at that table, huh?" Harry asked smugly. Ron and the others finally closed their mouths, and a scowling Sirius and a relieved-looking James handed him his winnings. Harry nodded, and pocketed it.

If things go this well all the time, I might do this more often.


	2. Chapter 2

**Now number 2, enjoy**

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Through the Looking Glass Chapter 2: Magicing Morph

(Characters featured prominently: Harry Potter, Luna Swann (formerly Lovegood), Hermione Bay (formerly Granger), Xenophilius Lovegood, Pandora Celeste McGregor, Filius Flitwick)

(After first DA meeting, before Potions lessons with Snape)

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"Well, that is one way of learning it," Professor Flitwick answered, shortly after their first Charms lesson. Flitwick had asked them to stay behind so they could talk with him about how they had mastered their Patroni at such a young age. Knowing he was mostly responsible for it, Harry had done most of the talking.

"Yes, but not recommended for everyone. Not many people share my Dementor Boggart," Harry said knowingly. It wasn't hard to remember that Ron's Boggart these days was Aragog. "But if you need me for it, I won't mind being near another Boggart. I can handle it these days."

"No, no," Flitwick reassured. "Students haven't seen a Boggart here in years. Professor Kettleburn makes a regular sweep of the castle for them once every week, and he tends to throw them out before anyone can use them. Unless Dumbledore or the DADA teacher of the year needs one for a lesson, that is, but few are competent enough to actually use one."

Harry nodded. "Alright. If that's all, Sir, we have Quidditch tryouts in a few hours, and I'd like to practice a bit more."

Flitwick smiled. "Yes, of course. Good luck, Mr. Potter. Given your brother's talent people will expect quite a bit of you on a broom."

"Thank you, Sir," Harry said, and he and the others all rose, leaving the class. As soon as they were out, they split. Neville, Ron, and Ginny headed downstairs, heading for the Kitchens for a quick snack, while Luna and Hermione headed for the Library. Hermione had been approached by a seventh year for help in charms during the lunch break, who figured that since Hermione had mastered the Patronus she had to be very good at it. Hermione didn't have the heart to decline, and Luna had invited herself along.

Harry had a brief moment of indecision: he was a bit hungry, but the woman who'd asked for their help had looked quite a bit like Luna, and Harry wanted to keep his promise to her about helping her meet and become friends with her parents.

Luna's laughter down the hall settled the deal for him. With a slight trot, he jogged after them. Hermione looked a bit surprised Harry joined them, but Luna didn't seem to mind. Hermione was stopped from pointing it out, though, when the seventh year girl joined them.

"Hello, Hermione," the girl said. "I'm Pandora. We spoke at dinner, remember?"

So his suspicion had been true: this was Luna's mother. Luna immediately brightened up upon hearing it.

"A pleasure," Hermione answered. "These are Harry and Luna, two of my friends who are also very good at Charms."

"Hello," Harry greeted her, and Luna, whose smile almost split her face in half now, held out her hand for shaking.

"Nice to meet you," Luna greeted her after Pandora shook it, as the foursome walked to the Library, which Harry saw wasn't that far away now. "I've heard quite a bit of you. You're nice, friendly, and smell of Crumple-horned Snorkack babies."

To his surprise, instead of getting a brow of confusion, the seventh-year blushed. "Yes. Xeno says the same thing."

The foursome sat down at the nearest table, each of them getting out their charms books. To save the girl from further awkwardness, Harry asked her a question. "So what part of Charms do you have trouble with?"

The girl took to the distraction with open arms, for she smiled and turned towards him. "It's mostly the theoretical stuff," she answered. "Once I get the spell and the theory behind it, the casting comes as easy as breathing. But the theory just won't come to me."

"I have the same problem," a voice said behind him, and Harry turned to someone who could only be Luna's father Xenophilius. Like his future daughter his hair was long and quite dirty, though from the loving smile Pandora sent him she didn't seem to mind. He wore his Hogwarts uniform, but had enhanced it with cuffs that faded to a new colour every few seconds, and shoes so long a clown might wear them. He also wore the same distant look Luna often did, even though from the way his head was turned it was clear his focus was on the foursome. "Mind if I join you? I'm Xenophilius Lovegood. Call me Xeno."

"A pleasure, Xeno," Harry greeted him. "Meet Luna Swann and Hermione Bay, and I'm Harry Potter."

"I guessed as much," Xeno smiled. "Potters always had a distinctive look of messy hair and glasses. Anyway, might I join you? I'm afraid my Charms theoretical work is as bad as Dora's."

Harry nodded, suppressing his smirk at the nickname for Luna's mother. "Sure. Why not?"

Xeno smiled, and pulled up a fifth chair to sit between Luna and Pandora. Together with Hermione, Harry explained what he knew of Charms, as well as shortcuts on how to apply them. Luna occasionally provided her own piece of advice, but mostly she just worked beside them in silence, or brought up a diagram from the book to help explain something to Pandora and Xenophilius. The two seemed insistent on knowing and understanding the theory for Charms, both of them wanting to get their Charms NEWTs for their prospective jobs, but it didn't hamper any of them in the slightest. For once, Hermione's drive (Harry refused to call it an obsession) to know as much about a subject as she could came in handy, for she had read ahead into the sixth and seventh year books, and had at least a slight understanding of the years.

It was when they were finishing up later in the day, shortly before supper, when they finally spoke of something other than Charms. "I must thank you very much for this," Xeno said. "I think I might actually have a chance of passing the year now."

"I'm sure things will end up alright," Luna said. "And if not, you can always look for Magicing Morphs."

Xeno and Pandora's heads shot around to look at Luna wide-eyed, and Harry had to look away to grimace at how much in that moment from that angle Xeno's long hair resembled the future Lucius Malfoy's. That was not an association he wanted in his head.

"You believe in the existence of Magicing Morph's?!" Xeno asked excitedly.

"Of course!" Luna said, her voice starting to rise to the same enthusiastic level as Xeno's. "Their existence has been proven all around the world. For example, in Macchu Picchu-"

Harry fondly tuned them out for a moment, as they started to discuss the various sightings of the things. Instead, he observed the reactions of the others to their ramblings. As predicted, Hermione rolled her eyes in disbelief, and had already tuned them out as she started to pack. Pandora, on the other hand, looked extremely focused and contemplative at the two Lovegoods, desperately trying to follow the conversation Xeno was having with Luna.

Harry decided to help her out. It would only help the relationship between the two Lovegoods in the long run. "Can you tell me what a Magicing Morph really is? You mentioned them before, but I can't recall you telling me what they actually are."

Pandora shot him a relieved look, as the two Lovegoods turned to the others. "Of course," Luna apologised. "I forget not everyone knows of them sometimes. A Magicing Morph is a creature not everyone can discover. Like a Boggart it has no distinct shape, capable of morphing into anything at will."

"But unlike a Boggart," Xeno picked up where Luna left off, "A Magicing Morph changes into whatever it fancies at any given moment, rather than into whatever a person fears the most. It can change itself into a shoe, a spoon, a medal, a ball, anything really. And the outer skin texture can change as well, to feel the same like the object it changes into. That's why they're so hard to find."

"So they're like Metamorphmaguses, but only more powerful?" Pandora asked, to which the two Lovegoods nodded. "Then how can you be sure they exist?"

"They have a basic shape," Xeno explained. "My father Amadeus has seen them. A soft pink purple ball that seems like slime, about this big," Xeno held out his hands, showing they're half the diameter of a quaffle "They're very shy and benevolent creatures, but very friendly and loyal once you gain their trust... And quite the pranksters, too. Amadeus had an encounter with one that hid his boot and impersonated it, only to literally kick his arse and blow a raspberry at him, laughing as it raced off before he could get it. Of course, he found it hiding as part of his hair three weeks later, hence the modern theory they like to nest in it."

Pandora nodded along, very interested in what she was hearing, while Hermione simply walked on ahead in exasperation.

Harry listened with interest as well, though not as much as the three Lovegoods. It would be fun to encounter such a creature, but with all the stuff happening in his life he didn't plan to actively search for it.

So lost were Harry and the others in their respective activities, that none noticed a pink mass flying down from the ceiling, landing on Harry's hair so softly he didn't feel it, and it changed to appear and feel just like the surrounding messy raven hair.

* * *

 _ **(After the escape from Riddle Manor and waking up, before being released from the Hospital wing)**_

Harry sat quietly in his bed in the hospital wing, Luna sitting beside him with a book from Xeno. Later in the afternoon he'd be released by Madam Pomfrey. The curse Voldemort had hit him with had been lifted, and the aftereffects, aside from the voices, had been treated by Dorea and Pomfrey. Still, the latter insisted on keeping him here for most of the day for observation, before he could be released from the wing and attend classes; her argument that this was an unknown curse she had to observe the effects for wasn tell quite persuasive.

The end result, of course, was that he was bored. Neville and Amelia had already been released, and had in fact already attended classes. They, along with everyone else from the Gryffindor fifth years and most of the DA, came to visit as often as Pomfrey allowed, but it still left quite a few gaps in the day where no one was with him and he was bored. True, Hermione kept him up to date on homework assignments, Ron gave him new chocolate frog cards to start a new collection, and the Marauders regaled him by telling him of their pranks in a grandiose style, but it wasn't enough.

So he was pleasantly surprised that Luna, of all people, had stolen his map, invisibility cloak, and some of his books (including the Peverell Tome), and came to visit him in the middle of class while Pomfrey was away. They didn't do much: most of the time they just read together in silence from their respective books. But the fact that she offered him companionship when the others (including himself) didn't yet realise he needed it was greatly appreciated.

"Thanks, Luna," Harry said, taking some more of the soup Madam Pomfrey had delivered an hour earlier, which was almost untouched as Luna had revealed herself mere moments after the mediwitch had left. "For being there."

"You're welcome," Luna replied, not even looking up from her book. Yet her tone and the smile he saw let him know how much she truly meant that. "That's what friends are for, right? Sirius and the others visit Remus whenever he's down like that, too. Besides, you really... Do... Need..."

Luna suddenly trailed off, and looked up above Harry. He turned to look up as well.

And Harry felt something fall from the top of his head as he did, and he startled. Small, finger-sized bits of black hair were falling down, and Harry worried for a moment if he was suffering from premature baldness.

Then the chunks of hair morphed together into a pink slimy mess that floated in the air. A mess complete with wide white eyes with black pupils, a mouth that was slightly agape as it stared at them in fear at being discovered, and two... studs coming from its central mass that could be arms if Harry thought they had them. It hid a bit behind Harry's elbow

Luna gasped in awe. "A Magicing Morph?" she asked herself in disbelief. Harry, predicting the enthusiastic reaction that would follow, immediately cast multiple silencing charms to keep this from Madam Pomfrey.

She didn't disappoint. She shot up from her chair, ran to the middle of the wing, and did a jig of happiness as she danced down its length and back again.

"They're real! They're real! Magicing Morphs are real!" She chanted and laughed, as she danced all over the wing, barely avoiding knocking anything over. Harry considered it lucky no one else occupied the wing at this time.

He felt happy for her. For years she had been ridiculed for her belief in such creatures, something even Ron and Hermione had accidentally done when they'd first met her. It would be a moment of immense relief when such a creature finally proved itself to exist. Like a worldly weight suddenly falling off her shoulders.

The Morph, a bit encouraged by her laughter, slowly floated out of its hiding place, its face changing from fear to curiosity. It's eyes even enlarged themselves a bit, until they took up two-third of the body in order to observe the dancing girl.

The eyes glinted a bit in the candlelight of the wing, which drew the girl's attention back to the Morph. She still breathed excitedly, her chest heaving with it as she did, but she managed to calm herself enough that she approached it slowly.

"It's alright," she coaxed it. "We're not gonna hurt you. We're alright. Harry's alright too. Come on."

Slowly but surely, the creature floated out from its hiding place, until it floated in front of Luna. The girl took on a curious look, and the creature did likewise, mirroring her. This mirroring continued on for quite a while. As Luna tilted her head, so did the Morph. As Luna waved, so did one of the studs of the morph. Then, as curiosity overtook her, Luna drew her wand.

The creature took to observing it instead, its mouth agape as it let out a slight noise of awe (at least, Harry assumed it was awe), until in less than the blink of an eye, the creature change until instead of the pink mass, a wand identical to Luna's floated in mid-air. Well, almost identical. At the middle, two small circles with the creature's miniature eyes were still visible. But as it briefly closed them, they disappeared entirely, and the wand was a flawless copy. Harry briefly grasped it, and was surprised by how... wooden it still felt. True, Xeno had explained they could take on the same texture as the material they mimicked, but to actually feel it...

Curious to see if it could act as an actual copy, he waved his wand and whispered. "Expecto Patronum."

Indeed, a silver Stag emerged from the end of the wand, which pranced around the wing. The morph flew out of his hands, changing back into the pink mass at the same time, and let out noises and squeaks of excitement as it followed the Patronus around, before letting out a sigh of disappointment as it faded away after a few seconds.

Then, it floated towards Luna, landing contently on her shoulder, seemingly sensing that Luna meant no harm to it.

Harry smiled, as he saw Luna and the thing bond instantly. Luna cooed over it and petted it over the head, and it let out sighs of contentment, as if it was being massaged.

"Looks like you have a new pet," he said happily. Luna nodded, her eyes never leaving her new companion.

"Morphie really likes me," she said, the largest smile on her face in a long time. He would bet she hadn't smiled this much since her mother had died in the other time. "I can't wait to show mum and dad."

"Show Hermione as well," Harry encouraged. "If this isn't proof the creatures you believe in exist, I don't know what is."

Luna nodded, before she ran into him and hugged him tightly.

"Thank you," she whispered, and Harry realised she was crying. "Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you."

"Uuhh..." Harry trailed off eloquently, unsure what he was being thanked for. "You're welcome. But what for, exactly?"

"For believing," she answered, her voice sounding very emotional. "Despite everything others told you... All the names, the ridicule, the stuff so fantastical even magicals believed them to be nonsense... And yet, after only one meeting, you still believed... And managed to hold on to that belief, even after all you suffered through in fifth year..."

Harry managed to piece together what she meant. She was thanking him for being there for her. For being there to listen to her, when she was bullied for believing in Xeno's creatures, when she was singled out, and her stuff got stolen... He hadn't realised it before, but with all that Hogwarts had to have been hell for her, being the only one to believe something no one else did.

And then the end of her third year happened, with Voldemort's return, and she found kindred spirit in Harry. Like her, people didn't believe him when he said Voldemort had returned. And she had listened to him, for no other reason than that he was in the same type of situation as her. And he in turn listened to her, heard out her outlandish theories about supposedly nonexistent creatures. And he started to believe, or at least gave her the benefit of the doubt. After all, if he could be right, why couldn't she?

And now, one of her creatures had reappeared, had actually proven itself to be true and not some figment of her imagination. It was proof to her that she was right all along, that miracles did exist. And that alone made it worth it to her. That, and her friendship with Harry.

Harry smiled, and returned the hug to the girl of whom he was starting to think as a little sister. A weird, absurd, and crazy sister he didn't understand fully. But a sister none the less.

"You're welcome," he said, with a lot more conviction in his voice this time. "But you better let go now. Think what Sirius might think if he caught us like this."

Luna got the hint and immediately let go, a massive blush rising up her cheeks. Her massive smile was still present, though. "It's all thanks to you, Harry. Without you or Ginny I would've broken down long ago."

Harry gave a nod back at her, his own smile still present. "Once again, you're welcome. That's what friends are for, right?"

As if understanding his words, which Harry was suspecting it did, for it looked surprisingly serious, the morph nodded with him, before giving Luna a reassuring chirp and rubbed her cheek. Luna smiled, and cradled the creature.

"Awwww, you're a cute one, ain't yah?" She asked cooingly, like she was cradling a hamster instead of a creature which wasn't even officially documented with the ministry yet. "What shall I name you?"

Harry smirked, a name already on his mind. "Stubby Boardman."

Luna looked up in surprise, not having considered that one. But Harry thought it fit. It was named after someone she clearly had a crush on (if her subtle innuendo's were anything to go by, as was the kiss at the house party), even though he didn't get the reference about the conspiracy of Sirius being the lead singer of the hobgoblins, and the first name clearly applied with those little arms. Clearly, 'Stubby' thought the same thing, for it smiled before doing a slight twirl. Then it eyed his bowl of soup, turned into a straw, and sucked the bowl dry in less than a second. The straw immediately collapsed into the bowl, and when Harry and Luna looked into it Stubby slowly emerged, looking content yet tired as it hung onto the edge of the bowl. It let out a final burp, and Luna laughed.

"Yes," she agreed, picking him up out of the bowl. "Stubby Boardman it is."

"Glad you agree," Harry said, before glancing at the clock that hung on the wall. Luna took the hint about how much of class she was cutting, as she picked up the cloak and map. "See you later, Harry."

"Good day Luna," he said, waving as Luna started to head for the door, before adding as an afterthought, "Good day, Stubby."

Stubby smiled and waved back, before Luna donned the cloak and was out of sight. A second later the door to the wing opened and closed, and he was alone again.

Glad one of his friends was now happier than ever, he resumed hisreadingwith a smile on his face.

* * *

 ** _ **Before anyone asks for Inspiration for a Ma** gicing Morph: think Morphie from the Treasure Planet Movie. Enough said._**


	3. Chapter 3

**And the Third Chapter. This becomes the Halloween that was thought of and promised back in Chapter 6 of Second Chance**

* * *

Through the Looking Glass Chapter 3: Camping in the Great Hall

(Characters featured prominently: Gryffindor fifth years, Frank Longbottom, Alice Prince, Professor Packard (Ancient Runes), Jebidiah "Cookie" Farnsworth (sixth year Hufflepuff), Amelia Bones, Edgar Bones)

(Halloween, the evening before Hogsmeade kidnapping)

* * *

Harry looked down gloomily, as he sat down for supper at the Gryffindor table. He never looked forward to Halloween anymore, despite the urgings of others. The day held nothing but bad luck for him. The troll in his first year. The first petrifications victim in his second year. The torn up portrait of Gryffindor tower in his third year. His name coming out of the Goblet of Fire in his fourth year. Umbridge nearly catching Sirius through the Floo in his fifth year. And add to that streak that (according to the old Sirius of his time anyway, as told during the Christmas holiday) that Voldemort had come for his parents that very night oh so many years ago...

Yeah, he wasn't going to look forward to the day, no matter what the Marauders tried to tell about the annual Halloween prank, where all four Marauders planned a massive one that usually affected over two-thirds of the school.

Surprisingly, though, the rest of the day had gone smoothly. No trolls. No attacks on the towers. No petrified cats hanging from the wall chandelier, no death tournament he would be forced to participate in...

That often meant the event would only get worse later, considering all those bad things had happened during or after supper. He was even warier considering no pranks from the Marauders had happened yet at all. And that meant none. No small hex of a student that annoyed Sirius. No jinxing Snape for bad-mouthing James. No hair changing charms for any of the houses. No single prank had been performed all day. And that was not the Marauder modus operandi.

Before Harry could take a single bite to eat, though, Dumbledore stood up. "May I have everyone's attention, please?" His voice was as soft as if he merely spoke with a man in a quiet room, but instantly all talking from the four tables fell silent.

"Thank you," Dumbledore said genially. "As many of you know, the Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw dormitories and common rooms are currently suffering from a very peculiar problem: a very strong stench of dung bombs lingers in the rooms entirely, the beds in the Slytherin dormitories are covered in slime, the Hufflepuff dormitories have their floors turned to ice, the Ravenclaws dormitories all have a dozen occupied bird nests in them each, and all taps for water and all shower heads release only stinksap instead of water." Harry glanced behind him to see Sirius and Peter snicker away, and Remus suppressing his own grin. His father was too busy staring at Lily to notice.

"Unfortunately," Dumbledore continued as most of the three affected houses glared in the Marauders' general direction, "whoever performed this prank," here Dumbledore gave a knowing glance in the Marauders' direction, but continued unabated, "did too good a job of it, for even with the help of the House Elves, and Professors Flitwick, Slughorn, McGonagall, Sprout, and myself, we are unable to undo either the stench or the modified taps. In fact, I'm afraid we cannot undo the enchantments that cause either to linger until tomorrow in the early morning."

Many students started whispering in dismay at one another at the situation, but fell silent again as Dumbledore held up his hand. "As such, you will all be sleeping in the Great Hall tonight, in Wizarding Tents handed out to each house and year group. And before you ask, yes, the Gryffindors will be joining us. We cannot leave a house out of this wonderful opportunity to go camping."

Many students started chattering excitedly with one another. Aside from waiting at events like the Quidditch World Cup, and searching for Snorkacks, most of the Wizarding world rarely went camping, from what Harry overheard. Even if they went to a Safari, most wizards and witches Apparated or Portkeyed to the nearest hotel. As such, most people here would be excited to sleep in a tent. The Marauders sat there rather gloomily, like Harry himself now, or complaining with one another right with the few Gryffindors who would rather sleep in the dorms than in the tents. Dumbledore, though, smiled widely as he stared down at the Marauders. Harry chuckled, realising this was Dumbledore's subtle way of getting back at the Marauders for causing them so much work.

"Now, unless anyone has further urgent questions," a hand rose up from the Slytherin table, interrupting Dumbledore's attempt at a dismissal. "Yes, Miss Wilkinson?"

"Why can't the tents be divided by sex, rather than by year?" The seventh year girl asked. "I... I have some people in my year I don't get along with very well."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Alas, while that would admittedly have been my own first choice as well, the tents aren't that large, and we don't have that many tents to divide between you all. However, if people can get a Wizarding Tent here before Curfew and are willing to share with your dorm mates and willing to sacrifice the use of a school one for Miss Wilkinson and her friends, feel free to owl your families or friends who own one."

A dozen students scattered throughout the hall chattered excitedly, while many people groaned. Unless someone's family lived in Hogsmeade, practically next door to the castle, no one could likely get a tent here before curfew, as curfew was only two hours away, the owls would take too long, during the war the Hogwarts Floo was charmed so it only allowed people to talk with others, rather than allowing things and people to pass through as well (a security measure to prevent people from smuggling in illegal objects, or to stop Death Eaters from being let in by a sympathiser), and no shop in Hogsmeade sold tents like that this time of year.

"Now, any further question that can't be asked of another teacher and would require the attention of the Headmaster?" Dumbledore asked loudly. "After all, the longer the heads of houses and I are here, the longer it will take to undo the enchantments and the longer it will be until you can return to your dormitories." Many people who had moved to raise a hand lowered them, realising their questions weren't important enough they couldn't be asked of another teacher. Dumbledore smiled genially at them. "Very well. You aren't prohibited from going to the common rooms and dormitories to retrieve the essential sleepwear and other items, but you should be informed that the stench is still quite strong and will permeate you in seconds, and is quite uncomfortable to smell. Curfew is the same, but instead, people will gather in the Great Hall, rather than returning to their common rooms. And now you are all free to leave."

Indeed, many students rose from the table in their excitement to leave, and as soon as the last person touching them left, the tables and benches disappeared, and a little over two dozen tents appeared in their place. They were divided and identified by coloured numbers floating over them: one for each year, and each house. As such, there were four ones, four twos, and so forth, the numbers either red with a golden edge, green with a silver edge, yellow with a black edge, or blue with a bronze edge.

Harry briefly returned to his dorm to grab his version of the cloak and map and things too important to leave laying about, as well as his pyjamas and locking his remaining stuff up in his trunk. As much as he trusted the professors and the Fat Lady, he didn't want anyone getting any funny ideas and try and go through his stuff. Usually, he was there, or the Marauders were, and the five of them (himself from his time at the Dursleys, the Marauders from too many pranks suffered from one another at night) were ingrained light sleepers and would always wake up whenever the dorm door opened. But now, with the Gryffindors ordered to sleep in the Great Hall, Harry wasn't taking any chances.

To his surprise, Vinnie came up halfway through as well. He hadn't expected the others to come until later. "Securing your own stuff too, huh?" Harry asked. Vinnie nodded.

"I have too much experience with the Marauders nicking my stuff for a prank not to do this," Vinnie said, as he gathered up a bunch of Potion ingredients and muggle tape and tossed them in his trunk. Harry held his breath when he actually glimpsed sticks of dynamite in there, complete with fuzes and such, in addition to the now-finished alarm-clock bomb from the first history class, as well as an old bomb from very far in the past, likely even from the time of the Golden Age of Piracy: a featureless black sphere except for a small stud on top with its own fuse. If anyone set Vinnie's trunk on fire, it would likely blow up the entirety of Gryffindor tower, if not much more. Fortunately, it soon closed after Vinnie tossed in a couple of matchboxes and scissors.

"You looking forward to the camping in the Great Hall?" Harry asked.

Vinnie paused before answering. "Well, I know one thing for sure. With the Marauders' antics, they'll keep us up all night."

Harry nodded. There was no denying that. Harry and Vinnie finished around the same time, so they walked down back to the Great Hall together. Various people sat on conjured benches, chairs, or couches in front of a small scattering of campfires as they arrived, likely created to truly simulate an actual camping trip. Of course, they could've just sat outside on the grounds for that, but Harry stopped trying to figure out Dumbledore's logic a long time ago. Harry and Vinnie moved to a fire made in front of the Gryffindor fifth year tent, which included all of said fifth years, as well as Frank and Alice sitting on Neville's left, and Amelia and Edgar Bones sitting on Frank's other side, an empty spot left next to Amelia. Harry sat down next to her, only to hear a loud farting sound as he did.

Moliere immediately collapsed on the floor behind him, rolling on the floor and laughing his arse off, and Harry looked down at his seat, and rolled his eyes as he saw Moliere had snuck a whoopie cushion onto it just as Harry had sat down.

"MOLE!" Nearly everyone in the group admonished him, glaring at him for the bad, almost childish joke. Only Sirius didn't, the smile on his face betraying he found it amusing, too.

"Ah, forgive me," Moliere breathed, his French accent slipping through as he heaved himself back on his spot on the bench between Joshua and James, briefly lifting his omnipresent omnioculars to wipe tears of mirth away from his eyes.. "Ah could not rezizt."

"Of course you couldn't," Harry mumbled. Before any conversations could resume, though, a sixth year Hufflepuff walked by, pushing a cauldron on a small cart as he did. Harry instantly grimaced and tried to look away. He didn't know the 'puff's real name, but he tried to avoid him during the evenings. It wasn't that he wasn't nice. Rather the opposite: he had an energetic, wild personality Harry had seen sometimes in one of Dudley's cowboy movies, whenever he'd snuck a glance into the latter's room at least, and the 'puff always tried to help any younger years that he could.

No, the reason Harry avoided him then was because of the boy's cooking. He always tried to give people some of his own self-made food. And for all of the boy's cheerful personality, even Hagrid cooked better. Even Hedwig had balked at it and immediately flown off. And it was made worse because he always tried to give Harry and James extra large portions, because they were 'so thin that if they turned their heads sideways and stuck out their tongues, they looked like a pair of zippers'. And Harry didn't have the heart to outright say the stuff was horrible. None of them did.

"Here you go, Harry. Put some meat on them bones," Cookie said, as he shoved Harry a plate with a grin on his face. Harry pulled a face at it. From the way a Cookie had announced it earlier, it was supposed to be some sort of salad with escargots and Oriental spring rolls, but it looked like it was something a giant had scraped from its boot after stepping on a crowd. And smelled even worse.

He immediately cleared his face when he saw Cookie looking at him in puzzlement. He tried to smile. "Uh, thanks Cookie. It looks... Greasier than usual."

He knew most of the others didn't take it as a compliment, but Cookie immediately smiled as if Christmas had come early. "You like it?!" When Harry tentatively nodded, Cookie immediately grabbed the cauldron. "Then have some more. You still look too much like them zippers to me," he advised, as he upended practically a quarter of the cauldron on Harry's plate, so much that it actually dripped off the sides of his plate. He then walked off to give James a similarly sized portion.

A sigh came from quite closely, and Harry turned to see Moliere look at longingly. "I wanted the Escargots."

Harry grinned, and switched plates with the boy. "Knock yourself out, Mole."

Moliere now wore a look similar to Cookies, and immediately started eating, forgoing eating utensils provided with the plate and grabbing it all with his hands. Hermione winced in disgust, before turning to Ron. "I'm sorry, Ron. I thought you were the epitome of bad eating habits and table etiquette, and judged you accordingly. But it looks like I was wrong. There are worse eaters out there."

Ron winced himself upon seeing Moliere eat like that. "Hermione, if I ate half as bad as that for all those years, I have my own apologies to give to you."

"You guys sound pretty close," Audrey noted. "You must all know one another for a long time."

Harry was about to nod in agreement, then paused. Aside from the Marauders and Frank and Alice, every single person in the group was paying close attention to them, even Moliere through his attempts at eating. He considered his words carefully, knowing everything he said about his past travels would be closely watched and clearly remembered, and any inconsistency would be picked out near instantly. Like how the others did with convincing him to restart the DA in the middle of the Great Hall, he decided to stick as much to the truth as we could.

"Most of us do," he admitted. "Though we only really got close about four or five years ago now. Even Neville and I didn't really interact much together until we were like eleven or something."

Neville nodded knowingly, also realising they were at least trying to stick to the truth while giving their alibis for not attending Hogwarts, while the other four time travellers seemed surprised at exactly how closely Harry was sticking to it. Fortunately, the listeners didn't seem to notice, their attention on Harry as he was the storyteller.

"We all split up for our early years until we were eleven, so each of us could get extra tutoring on the types of magic we each had a natural affinity for," Neville explained upon their puzzled looks. "For Harry, that was Defensive magic, nonverbal magic, and an attempt at wandless magic. For me, it was Charms, elemental magic specifically, also nonverbal, and Herbology and Earth magic."

"I am supposed to be good at Charms," Luna supplied for herself, as she dreamily took a bite from her 'Escargot sludge'. "As well as enchanting and a natural affinity for creatures of all kinds, both magical and non-magical. All were very educational experiences."

Ron shrugged sheepishly. "I'm not all that special like them. I'm only really good at healing and Transfiguration. Like James over there, the latter comes naturally for me. Well, unless being very good on a broom counts. My sister and I have that in spades."

Ginny shrugged. "Yep. My only real magical affinity is DADA, though. For the rest, I'm more of a jack-of-all-trades, as Hermione called it once."

Hermione nodded and spoke up. "I'm also quite good at charms apparently. And while I don't have the magical power to perform any of the following really well, I seem to have a natural understanding of the theoretical aspects of Arithmancy, Warding, and Ancient Runes of various Runic languages."

"How's that?" Vinnie asked. "From what you told us, you were muggleborn."

"That's our fault, actually," Harry said, pointing to himself and Ron before any of the others could make things awkward by not coming up with a good alternate story. He knew a situation like this might come up, where they'd have to share details on their journeys, and had been preparing for quite some time. "I needed to go to the dentist once, since my instructors were indisposed and couldn't heal it magically, and I was too young to do it myself. And Ron and his father, who's a pureblood wizard who also has a fascination with Muggles, wanted to see what a dentist was like, so they took me."

"And I was the kid of said dentists," Hermione said, catching on to what Harry and Neville were doing with the back stories. "They performed accidental magic around me that my parents and I saw, and it helped explain a lot of things. They offered us a place in their tutoring group that traveled abroad, and... well, here I am."

The others nodded in interest, and Amelia looked very contemplative. "Interesting. And at eleven you all met up again so you could all learn the other basic subjects together."

Harry nodded. "Yep. That's not to say we all got along from the start, though," he grinned. "As a matter of fact, Hermione and Ron constantly fought first few times they met. If I remember correctly, Hermione called Ron a 'biased, uneducated prat', while Ron called Hermione a-"

That was as far as he got before said students being described both dashed across the circle and tried to smother him with their pillows, their plates of sludge on the floor of the tent and forgotten. Both were blushing at their choice of words they described their younger counterparts. And inadvertently pushed so hard he toppled backwards, to the snickering of the others.

They did fail to take one thing into account, though: Neville had also been in their year back then.

"They only really became friends after they took down a mountain troll together," he said. Hermione and Ron's heads swivelled around, gaping (like most of the others) at Neville for revealing that, while Luna and Ginny shared a look before giggling together as Harry got back into his seat. Harry, fortunately, got the chance to breathe again.

"You what?!" Edgar asked. "A mountain troll? But you were eleven-year-olds, you barely knew any spells. How the hell did you manage that?"

Harry smirked, and recounted (a highly edited version of) the tale of how they became friends with Hermione: how Ron insulted her after correcting him on the levitation charm's pronunciation, her hiding in a bathroom on Halloween, the troll appearing during supper and the teacher supposed to defend them fainting at the news, them searching for her, finding her and the troll far out of the way of where it was sighted, Harry jumping on its back and sticking his wand up its nose, and Ron ironically defeating the troll with the very spell he was corrected on earlier.

"And Ron cast it on the club, swung it upwards," Harry made an excessive gesture, dramatising it for the audience, "before swinging it back down, letting it crash on the troll's head, and knocking it unconscious. We got Hermione out of there. Her rattled and covered in dust, Ron staring in amazement at his wand, and this wand," Harry held up his wand. "Covered in troll bogeys."

"And I made sure he washed that afterwards," Hermione said when except for Moliere all of them pulled disgusted face. "Thoroughly."

"She didn't even offer to help," Harry said cheekily. "OW!" Hermione smirked, withdrawing her hand from swatting his neck and moving back to her seat beside Remus from where she'd been standing, Ron following to his own spot a second later. Harry cringed, feeling his muscles had cramped up from the fall and the slap together. He tried to rub it discreetly, but evidently not discreetly enough.

"You alright there, Harry?" Joshua asked, getting up and standing over him.

"No, it's fine," Harry said immediately. "You don't need to-"

"Mm, hmm," the fellow fifth year hummed, clearly not believing it for a second. "Sit still for a moment."

Harry tried to protest, as both Edgar and Amelia shuffled a bit away from him to give Joshua some space. But Joshua grabbed both sides of his head. Before Harry could yell in indignity or pull his head loose, the other boy gave a few sharp pulls and twists Harry was very sure his head and neck weren't supposed to bend. Still, he was used to worse from Harry-hunting, Malfoy's attempts at hexing Harry, and had Voldemort's Cruciatus cast on him in fourth year, and Joshua had nothing on them. He didn't make a sound.

After about five such twists, Joshua let go, stepped over the bench between Frank and Amelia, and looked at Harry. "How about now?"

Harry tried to move his neck... And found all the pains from previously gone. He smiled. "Much better, thanks."

"How'd you learn to do that?" Hermione asked in curiosity, and most of the others (Lily and Audrey especially) leaned forward in interest as well.

"Known how to most of my life," Joshua answered. "Grew up with an Arapaho Medicine Man for an uncle,"

"Really?" Audrey asked in surprise. "You're a Native American?"

Joshua nodded, reaching into his jeans pocket. "Born and raised with 'em, mostly. My father was an army medic, and he settled down in the Kansas territory..." He finally found what he was looking for, a piece of paper, and unfolded it so they could all see. It showed a man who was indeed clearly military standing next to a Native American Woman, both of them smiling brightly as the woman held what must've been an infant Joshua in their arms. "After he met my mother," Joshua finished as he stopped showing it to them all.

"No kidding," Ron grunted, finally admitting defeat and settling Cookie's plate away from him, not a single bite taken from it.

"Nope," Joshua contradicted, pulling some sort of good-luck pendant with various animal skins from another pocket close to his wand. He pointed at two of them. "I got a sheepskin from Howard U, and a Bearskin from old Iron Cloud." He put the pendant back in his pocket. "Just as I was about to enroll into high school with a doctor's career in mind, I got my letter I was a muggleborn wizard. Now, my father's pretty open-minded, so instead of immediately enrolling me into Salem or Ilvermorny, he looked all the schools. Durmstrang in Norway, Beauxbatons in the French Pyrenees, Castelobruxo in the Amazon Rainforest, this Russian school called Koldovstoretz, Mahoutokoro in Japan, and the Uagadou School in Uganda are some of the ones he considered, before finally settling for Hogwarts," Joshua grinned, gesturing around him. "Most of you can attest for most of my life from there: I got on the express and immediately approached Madam Pomfrey for the requirements for a Healer's apprenticeship. I'm starting it next year."

"You all alright in there?" an older voice asked, and they all turned. Professor Packard, the Ancient Runes teacher, stood in the opening.

Packard wasn't too bad: an elderly chain-smoking woman even by Wizarding standards at a hundred and nine years old, she taught them Ancient Runes, though the class left a bit to be desired. It wasn't that she didn't know the subject. The thirteen masteries of the Runic Languages she'd fully mastered hanging behind her desk on the wall proved that. No, it was that she didn't enjoy teaching at all. Her face never lit up with joy whenever a student grasped a difficult aspect or frowned whenever someone made fun of the subject. She displayed no enthusiasm whatsoever. But unlike Snape, who had expressed his displeasure of teaching by Slytherin favouritism, verbal abuse, and untalented instruction, Packard displayed it by apathy. Pure and bored apathy. With maybe a few pinches of cynicism and sarcasm. The phrase 'then we're all gonna die', followed closely by her putting out her cigarette, was repeated so often whenever someone asked about what would happen if a particular rune scheme went wrong James had attempted to start a betting pool on how often they could get her to say it in a week.

Not very motivating to do well in class, but occasionally very amusing. Even if they occasionally wondered why the hell she was still there, although Remus figured that at her age she had nowhere else left to go.

"Yeah, we're alright professor," Harry said, and the others said something similar. Of all the Professors doing their rounds to ensure the children behaved themselves, there could be worse people to do so.

"Oh joy," she muttered.

"Anyone any leftovers?" Cookie asked, strolling by again. The response was much more apparent this time as everyone tried to get out of it. Audrey claimed to be watching her weight, Vinnie mouthed off he was still busy with his last portion, and Mary and Marlene claimed they might stop by for more later. Harry's favourite reaction was Moliere, who tried to hide under the bench since the Escargots were all out. But given his rather rotund stature, it drew more attention to him than hiding him. Cookie minded none of them, though.

"Oh, don't you worry, folks," he assured them, as he walked off with the cauldron on a trolley "It'll keep, and keep, and keep,"

Packard sighed and picked up Ron's abandoned plate. "Thank Helga I lost my sense of taste years ago," she said, as she tipped the contents into the fire. The others did likewise, all looking at the plates with looks of disgust on their faces, as it extinguished the fire.

It seemed to be some sort of signal, for all around the hall fires were going out, and students headed for their respective tents (or in the case of two, who'd gotten their tents before curfew, set them up with a flick of their wands). Harry cast a Tempus and looked in surprise. He didn't know it had been that close to Curfew. Amelia, Edgar, Frank, and Alice got up as well, with Alice moving over to give Neville and Lily some sort of goodbye.

"See you tomorrow at the carriages," he said, waving Amelia goodbye.

"See you then," she agreed with a smile and wave. "Bye."

He smiled as well, before she and Edgar jogged to the seventh year Hufflepuff tents. Frank and Alice, after a hug between Alice and Neville that got a few odd stares (considering all they knew of the relationship between those two was that Neville was the not-that-much younger brother of the guy she dated), and a kiss on Lily's cheek and a from-here-inaudible word of goodbye, headed for the seventh year Gryffindor tent two tents down the row. Shrugging, he and the others all walked inside.

This tent was larger on the inside than the tent Mister Weasley had borrowed for the World Cup, but to compensate for that it had, aside from the massive room they'd all be sleeping in, only seven different rooms, five of them bathrooms and two of them changing rooms for those that didn't feel comfortable doing so in front of others (like Remus, Neville, Hermione, and Peter), given it was a tent with both boys and girls and in case one couldn't do so in the bathroom. James, Harry, Ginny, Sirius, and Marlene had no issues with this, but that was only a small surprise. The Quidditch locker rooms were also communal, and if you have been changing in there since your first year you tend to get over any awkwardness rather quickly. Harry still tried to cover himself a bit when he changed, but that was more to cover the scars from the Basilisk, the Graveyard Ritual, and the Blood-Quill than any prudishness on his part.

James had no such prudishness either, and one glance had Harry looking away and rolling his eyes as James was bare chested and about to undo his trousers.

"Potter!" Lily called, who Harry noted amusedly was still blushing even as she tried to look away. But given the Tent had no other decorations aside from the sleeping mats, blankets, pillows, and doors to the bathroom there was little else to look at aside from their current 'tent mates', and most of them were finding this situation rather amusing, even if they were at least decent enough not to snicker and laugh at Lily's expense

"What?" James asked, deciding to humour Lily and keeping his underwear on, immediately changing into his pyjama pants. "The way I figure, the only reason you ought to be afraid of showing yourself is if you're ashamed of something," he grinned, buttoning up his shirt. "Something I'm clearly not, as you could've seen."

"Still," Lily persisted. "Not everyone wants to see that!"

"In the future you might want to?" James retorted with a smile, before heading into the bathroom Hermione was just coming out of, leaving a sputtering Lily behind. Harry rolled his eyes, resolving to talk to James about that maturity idea. He'd told James Lily had only started to like him when he'd matured a bit and grown up, but the latter had clearly latched onto the wrong part of that aspect, something that needed discussing.

Curiously, Sirius did his best to get in the bathroom before Luna, and locking the door behind him. The two hadn't spoken since the time Luna had snogged Sirius during the party a few days ago, and Sirius was doing his best to avoid her. Harry frowned, wondering what was going on. As far as he knew Sirius and Marlene weren't together, and the latter girl didn't seem upset by what had happened at all, so it couldn't be the fact they were together. In fact, Marlene had been more amused at the time than anything, being one of those wolf-whistling Luna for being so daring.

"Hey, Audrey?" Luna asked as she waited, distracting Harry and breaking his line of thought. "I know some about the other girls: Lily a social, bookwormish muggleborn (no offence meant, Lily), Mary a fashion-obsessed girl that loves to hear and spread rumours, and Marlene as the Quidditch athlete. But what about you, exactly?"

Audrey shrugged. "Not much to tell. My papa was a mechanic that used to work on cruise ships until he got my sister and me. And my mother... Let's just say that when they met my dad paid in cash. He was still responsible, though, showing up and supporting her when he learned I was his, and taking care and loving me as his own. But there was no romantic love between my parents at any point."

Harry was silent as he listened to her, as did most of the time travelers. Audrey continued. "Mum died in childbirth, so I grew up only with my dad and a half sister twelve years my senior from his last relationship. He originally wanted two sons, though. One to take up his machine shop, and the other to be a boxing champion." She empathised that last bit by taking up her rolled up blankets and punching it. "But he got my sister and me instead," she finished, as she rolled her blanket out and took off her boots, before laying down for the evening.

"Ah," Neville said uncertainly, having come out of the bathroom during the telling. "And, uh, your sister?"

Audrey grinned here. "She's twenty seven and oh, with a shot at the title next month," she told them proudly. "Anyway, I promised when I learned of magic that I would get him a flying motorbike, and that's what I've been working on since I got here: just finished the five year period of building the perfect one from the ground up. Now I'm busy all I need to learn to get it to fly."

"When you've figured out how to do it, can I get one too?" Sirius called from the bathroom he was in. "Always wanted a bike, and a flying one's even better."

"Only if you tell people I did the enchanting!" she called back. "No taking credit for my work!"

"Deal!" He called back, before they heard a shower turn on.

"Lobcock," Audrey muttered. "Anyway, once I finish Hogwarts I intend to head to the USA, and study up on Technomancy. Maybe even get Magicals to accept there are other ways to fly around other than brooms and carpets."

"Yeah, a flying Hogwarts express would be awesome!" Ron said in agreement. "I bet you'd make thousands of galleons doing that."

Harry grinned. His only experience with flying muggle vehicles so far was Mister Weasley's car and the very distant memory of Hagrid carrying him on Sirius' bike, but to fly the Express to the school instead of simply riding it there would be awesome.

The outside flap of the tent opened again, and Professor Packard looked in again. This time, though, she was dressed in a bathrobe, with round things in her hair Harry had seen Petunia use before but had never heard the name of, as well as a coloured cream mask.

"Still alive?" she asked. The others all nodded, while Hermione raised her hand.

"Professor, if it's not too personal to ask... Why are you wearing a bathrobe?" Her tone sounded hesitant yet curious.

Professor Packard huffed in annoyance. "Another time-delayed prank has nearly every Professor's office covered in dung, and all cupboards filled with class material has been spelled shut. Since only the headmaster's office was unaffected, we elected to sleep in the Hall with you lot and deal with it in the morning. As for the bathrobe... I sleep in the nude." With that bombshell, she walked off outside. Harry, and he was sure quite a few others as well, stared after her. A professor, forced to-

Something slapped into his face from the Marauders' direction, and he grabbed it. It was a blindfolding sleeping mask.

"You'll all want one of these," Remus said, cringing as he was handing them out to the others and tossing them to those not in easy reach. "We learned during our nighttime explorations that she sleepwalks. And she has been doing the nude-sleeping for decades, so..."

Harry immediately got the picture, and finished getting dressed into his pyjamas, a simple bland red pair with golden squares, and put the mask on top of his head. Vinnie was already dressed in his sleeping ware, a simple green tank top shirt and swimming shorts, and curiously (like Harry did to hide the Blood-Quill scars) sleeping with gloves on. His Potions Gloves, to be precise. He simply lay down on his bed, mask already over his eyes. The others all also lay down on some of the spots available, the others from the bathrooms and changing rooms doing so

"And as far as me goes..." he started, laying his head on his pillow with his hands crossed underneath it. "I just like to blow things up."

Joshua didn't seem to like that, walked over, and pulled the mask up so far the cords tying it behind Vinnie's head were stretched as far as they could go. "Come on, Vinnie," he said reproachfully. "Tell those kids the truth." Before letting go and letting it snap back onto his head. The snap was apparently so strong Vinnie's head bounced for a moment, before the boy rose his head in annoyance, the mask askew as it had landed on only one eye, the other on the cheek below.

Nevertheless, Vinnie sat up on his elbows and started telling. "After my grandparents from Italy moved here my family started a flower shop in Diagon Alley, a bit away from the Cauldron." Vinnie got up his hand and started counting off his fingers. "We would sell Roses... Carnations, Baby's Breath... You name a flower, magical or not, and we would sell it. One day, I'm helping with this order of making three hundred corsages for some Ministry-funded ball. You know, the ones they put on the wrist." Vinnie flexed his wrist to emphasize. "And from all over the country, hundreds of ladies come. 'Where is it?' 'When is it ready?' 'Does it match my dress?'" Vinnie rubbed his eyes in remembrance. "It's a nightmare. Anyway, I guess there was this leak next door in a store dealing with muggle appliances, a gas line or something, and BOOM!" Vinnie rapidly spread his arms and briefly stood up to bring home how powerful the explosion was. "No more Muggle Appliances." He rolled over so he was on his stomach, and leaned his chin on one hand as he gestured with the other with an unlit match between his fingers. "Blew me right through the front window." He lit the match, and held it in front of him.

"It was like a sign from God. I found myself, in that boom."

Harry was about to ask further, but they were distracted by odd sounds. During Vinnie's retelling of his story, Moliere had brought in a large plant pot as tall as Joshua and twice as wide as Slughorn, and begin digging, omnioculars and light still on his face despite his pyjamas. After they morbidly watched Mole dig around in the pot for another half minute the French kid finally stopped, clicked off his light, and chuckled.

Ron slowly looked from Moliere to his fellow year mates. "So what's Mole's story?" he carefully asked.

"Trust me on this," Joshua broke in before any of the others could answer, a traumatised look on his face. "You don't want to know," he immediately pointed with his wand to Lily, Mary, and Audrey, who had since gotten into their own sleeping clothes, Audrey and the two Muggleborns amusedly as simple as Vinnie's with only a tank top and shorts as well despite Lily's protests of James showing too much, compared to the pureblood and/or prudish Hermione, Ginny, Marlene, and Luna, who all wore pyjamas covering their entire body, sleep masks, and slippers.

"Lily, Mary, Audrey, don't tell them," he ordered. "You shouldn't have told me. But you did. And now I'm telling all of you, you don't want to know."

And with that, after a brief time where the last few stragglers (Harry included) did their business in the bathroom, they all got to sleep.

Or tried to.

"Remus, move!" Sirius heatedly whispered.

"You move!" Remus returned with a similar whisper. "Your elbow keeps hitting my side!"

"I'm practically against the wall here, Remus! It's you that needs to move!"

"You have three feet between you and the tent wall, damn it! I have Peter and Ron on my other side! You move!"

"You know I need to move around in my sleep! You move!"

"The only ways I can move would make the others suggest one of use is either getting hands-on or giving Oral Sex, Sirius! So if you don't' Move- OUCH!"

"Oops, my elbow shot out a bit too low!" Sirius apologised, his tone saying he was anything but sorry. "Do you now see why you-"

"Shut up!" Twin voices called, and Harry was at least a little bit reassured it came from both Lily and James. Maybe there was hope after all if they worked together to try and keep the piece.

Sadly, that didn't mean the argument ended.

"You shut up, Prongs! Sirius keeps trying to hit my sensitive spot!"

"You deserve it!" Lily called, her voice now loud enough to actually be considered talking. Harry groaned silently and folded the cushion over his ears. Why couldn't he sleep as deeply as Peter or Ron?

"Sirius, something's poking me in a rather awkward spot!" Remus still whispered. "Kindly turn around, or I'll cast a shrinking spell at it before you can blink!"

"That's my wand, you naff!" Sirius retorted, and Harry closed his eyes as he could actually see the outline of Sirius reaching into his pants to do so. There were things he didn't want to see his godfather do. "Look!"

"Please don't tell me you keep it there simply as a response to a pick-up line about toys or rockets between your legs!" James whispered. "I told you many times that is the worst way to pick up ladies!"

"Well, considering you still haven't picked up Lily after four years of trying I'm not relying on your expertise!"

"OY!" Once again came the twin calls from James and Lily.

In the midst of this argument, Joshua got up and headed to the bathroom, followed not-so-subtly by Audrey a bare ten seconds later. Harry sighed, and sure enough, the sounds of two people having sex soon came from said bathroom, loud enough to even stop the argument between Lily and James, and Sirius, and Remus, to have all of them looking over and listening in interest.

Harry got up, tiptoed over those asleep to said door, and slammed his hand on it, making the sounds stop. "I don't care what you do in there, but at least have some common courtesy for the rest of us and cast silencing and privacy charms."

"Sorry," came the twin calls from the other side, followed by the sound of incantations, and them being cut off halfway as the silencing ones took effect. Harry grumped, and got back to his mat, ignoring the slight glare Sirius gave, and the slightly grateful one everyone else awake gave him, and laid down to sleep.


End file.
